Not Precisely Pregnant Page 4

  "Pshaw. Don't try lying to me, girl. I can see it in your eyes. Those dark brown eyes don't hide a thing, you know. You did something you're so proud of that you're dying to tell. You know you want to, and you know I won't stop pestering until you do, so you might as well tell me now and save us the hassle of my whining. Although you know I'm good at whining, and it's important to use our talents—that's one of the things they stress here, use it or lose it—so maybe I'll just whine for a few minutes on the principle of the thing."

  Annabelle's pitch climbed a couple octaves, and there was a tiny tremble in her voice for effect as she said, "Please, Paige, tell your old auntie what you did."

  "Old auntie my—"

  Annabelle interrupted with a chuckle, "Don't be vulgar, girl. You wouldn't want to offend my delicate ears."

  Paige couldn't resist joining her laughter. "There's not a delicate bone in your body, and I'm sure your ears are no exception."

  Annabelle assumed an injured expression, though Paige knew her aunt well enough to know that she'd consider Paige's non-delicate comment a compliment

  "Now, you're insulting me," Annabelle said. "Keeping secrets is just adding insult to injury, and you know I—"

  "Okay, okay, your whining wins." Paige knew when she was beaten. Truth be told, she'd never wanted to win—she needed Annabelle's help. She'd merely kept up the fight for appearances. "I got Steph to agree to let me do a weeklong series on Erie's heroes."

  Annabelle's eyes widened. "And you got Riley to agree to an interview?"

  "No." Paige shook her head. "Though I haven't given up trying."

  "You're not going to air the story without his permission, are you? I mean, I know things didn't work out between the two of you the way I'd hoped, though I don't think either of you gave it much of a chance. Anyone can have a bad date—"

  Paige corrected her, "The worst date in the history of dating."

  Annabelle continued, ignoring Paige's comments, "—bad date, but that's no reason to betray your journalistic integrity. In forty years of working in the news game, I never betrayed a confidence. And Riley asked you not to—"

  "It's okay, Aunt Annabelle. I'm not going to mention his name, not even obliquely. You and Steph are the only two people I've told about his rescuing me, and both of you are sworn to silence, so there's no worry about the news leaking out. And you can bet when I talk about Riley's heroism on the air, it will be with his permission."

  Paige picked up the cards and started absentmindedly shuffling them. "I did my first story this afternoon for 'Erie's Heroes.' A police officer who talks to school kids about peer pressure and drugs. There was nothing about cabbies saving quasi-pregnant women."

  "But you're doing the series to egg him on, aren't you?'' Annabelle asked with a knowing smile.

  Paige stopped mid-shuffle. "I can't believe you'd think I was that unprofessional. I would never use my position to torment someone, not even Riley Calhoon—though if ever a man deserved a little tormenting, it's him. He's annoying, opinionated—and those opinions are generally wrong—and. . .I never did figure out why you set us up."

  "I like him. I like you. I thought you'd be good for each other. I still do."

  "How can you say that, especially after that date from hell? I mean, I've had bad dates before, but that was beyond my worst nightmare. I should have known when Cuddles attacked him that the evening was going to be a disaster. This was one instance when I should have forgotten about being optimistic and just bowed to the inevitable."

  "Well, you gave it a try. And speaking of being optimistic, just what have you been up to with this interview business?"

  Suddenly remembering the cards in her hands, Paige started shuffling again. She looked at them instead of her aunt. "Well, that's where you come in. I need to know everything you know about Riley Calhoon."

  "You swore me to secrecy about his role in saving you. I haven't even told him I know, though I'd like to thank him. But I know how to keep a secret. Do you think I'd betray his confidence?"

  Paige looked up and met Annabelle's piercing look. "Of course not. But unless he said 'This is off the record,' you have to assume whatever he told you is fair game."

  "Paige, I'm ashamed of you." Annabelle grabbed the deck of cards from her and started to set them down with a thump. "Thinking that you can manipulate an old woman into dishing the dirt on a man who has been nothing but kind to her. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Why, just last week he came in with Zac and brought me Greek burgers, and you know how much I love Greek burgers."

  "Zac?" Paige asked.

  "His Little Brother. Oh, not little brother, as in his sibling, but Little Brother, as in part of that Big Brothers program. The boy's about twelve and has been with Riley for, oh, what did he say? Maybe two years. He—"

  Annabelle didn't get to finish her sentence. Paige was on her feet kissing her aunt's forehead. "Thanks, Aunt Annabelle. You've been a big help. I've got to go, but I'll stop by again soon."

  "Where are you going?"

  "To do some research on my next installment of Erie's Heroes. The Big Brothers program here in Erie," Paige called as she sprinted from the room.

  "Oh, you're a sly one, getting me to help you even though I swore I wouldn't," Annabelle called after her. "And I'll. . ."

  Paige was out of hearing range before Annabelle finished her threat, but she really wasn't worried about Aunt Annabelle's revenge. She was too caught up in digesting this newest fact about Riley.

  He was a Big Brother? That certainly didn't fit the image she had of him.

  If asked right after their horrendous date she'd have simply described him as tough, cynical and abrasive. Now? Well, in all fairness, she'd have to add heroic. And how would you describe someone who donated time to a cause like the Big Brothers program? Kind? Maybe.

  Heroic and kind.

  No, that's not what she'd thought when she'd first met Riley.

  THE NEXT DAY Paige entered the Erie Civic Center just as they started to play the national anthem. She stopped and placed her hand over her heart, though she didn't try to sing along. The notes in the song weren't meant for mere mortals to hit.

  She scanned the crowd and couldn't help feeling a bit smug. He was out there somewhere.

  Not a real reporter?

  Ha!

  She not only had a great story on the Big Brothers program here in Erie, she'd found out that the group had sponsored a hockey night tonight. And she knew the group was seated down below her, as close as they could get to the ice.

  She scanned the back of a sea of heads, confident she could identify Riley, even from behind.

  There he was. She spotted him right next to a boy, on the end of the first row. They were practically sitting on the ice. That was great.

  Trying to seem nonchalant, she started with the first pair she saw. Camcorder in hand, she said, "Hi, I'm Paige Montgomery with WMAC. And I'm here this evening interviewing some of the adults who volunteer with the Big Brothers program. Would you mind answering a few questions?"

  The very nice-looking gentleman agreed, but even as she chatted with him, Paige kept an eye on Riley. Because she was behind him, he hadn't spotted her. He was engrossed in something the boy was saying.

  The man she was interviewing wound down. She thanked him and decided to forget about subtlety—she couldn't wait any longer. Her excitement didn't have anything to do with seeing Riley. No, she was excited merely because she'd bested him.

  She made her way down toward Riley, her heart beating a rapid rhythm.

  "Riley Calhoon," she said in a voice filled with blatantly fake surprise. "Imagine seeing you here tonight."

  Riley kept a smile pasted on his face, but she could see the annoyance in his eyes as he said, "Paige Montgomery. What brings you out?''

  "Why, I'm doing a story on the Big Brothers program and thought tonight's event was the perfect way to speak to some of the adults who volunteer their time to the program. And since you're sitting in this section, why you mu
st be one of them. And this is. . .?" She knelt so that she was eye level with the boy sporting a blond crew cut and a smudge of something on his cheek.

  "I'm Zac."

  "Hi, Zac. I'm Paige. I—"

  "I know who you are," the boy said excitedly. "Mom watches you every night. You and Ellen Degeneres are her two favorite TV people. She says you're both nice. And after a long day at work she doesn't have time for doom and gloom. She just wants nice."

  "Well, you tell your mother I said thank-you. That's a huge compliment," Paige said.

  The boy paused a moment, then hesitantly asked, "Do you think you'd give me your autograph for her?"

  "Sure thing. What's your mother's name?"

  He held out his program. "Phylis. With just one l. She says her mother wasn't much of a speller, because most of the time Phylis has two l's, but hers is just one, so she has to tell everyone. So it's Phylis with just one l.''

  Paige dug into her bag for a pen, then signed the program with a flourish. "Phylis, with just one l." She looked past the boy to Riley and asked, "Now, about that interview?"

  "No. I told you, I keep telling you, I'm not doing it. And stalking me isn't going to change my mind."

  "Not that one—though you'll change your mind eventually—but just a few words about why you're a Big Brother and a question or two for Zac about what the program's done for him."

  She held up her camera. "I brought my trusty camcorder so I can capture it all for posterity and for the evening news. So how about? A few words about Big Brothers?"

  "No."

  Zac looked up at Riley and said, "You mean I can't be on the news? My mom would think it was totally rad if I was talking to Ms. Montgomery on the television."

  Paige was all for needling Riley Calhoon, but upsetting a little boy wasn't in her plans. "Riley, if you won't agree to talk to me, even about a program as great as Big Brothers, then how about I just talk to Zac?" She sent him a pleading look, then smiled at the boy. "I'd have to clear it with your mom before I put you on the air, but I think she'd be proud to see you on the news."

  "Could I, Riley?" Zac asked.

  Riley's expression said that letting Zac talk to Paige was the last thing he wanted to do, but as he looked at the boy his expression softened and Paige knew he was going to agree.

  She added another Riley fact to her growing list. . .he was a pushover for kids, at least for this kid.

  "Just don't say my name," he warned. "I want to remain anonymous. I do this because I want to, because you and I are buddies. I don't do it because I want everyone to know."

  Paige turned on her camera and focused on the boy. But not before she caught a quick glimpse of Riley from behind the lens. She'd keep her promise and edit it out before she put the piece on the air. But she lingered half a second, hoping that looking at him through a lens might give her some perspective, offer some new insight.

  Nothing. He was still dark-haired, dark-view-of-the-world Riley Calhoon, a mass of contradictions. Cantankerous. Stubborn. Cynical. Heroic. Kind. A pushover.

  She purposely focused on Zac. Figuring out the complexities of someone like Riley Calhoon would have to wait for another time.

  The boy chattered happily about things he'd done with Riley. There'd been season tickets to the Erie Sea Wolves baseball team, trips to the beach and to see the Monster Trucks and. . .

  "He's even taking me to see some musical next week. Riley says a man should know more about the world than sports. He said he never had a little brother of his own, and asked me if I'd mind helping him out and. . ."

  The boy was a font of information, but eventually he stopped.

  "Thanks, Zac."

  "Paige, do you mind if I talk to you a minute?" Riley's voice was tight as he stood.

  She shut off the camcorder, surprised Riley had let Zac run on for as long as he had. "Sure thing. Would you mind holding this a minute, Zac?" She handed the camera to the boy before Riley practically dragged her into the aisle. They stood in the small walkway where the stairs ended at the ice.

  "This has got to stop," Riley said.

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "Do you honestly believe that I don't know you're following me?"

  "You know, I discovered your overinflated ego on our date, and I see that the past six months haven't done a thing to deflate it. My world does not revolve around you, Calhoon."

  "No? You could have fooled me. Thursday you ruin a surprisingly good turkey sub and give me acid indigestion. Friday you're covering the mayor's press conference—not your normal kind of story—and set out to try to keep me from hearing what was said. And now, on Sunday, you're at a hockey game. I don't think spending an afternoon with the Erie Otters is part of your normal schedule, is it?"

  "Coincidence. Other than that first day, it's just coincidence. I'm here for a segment of 'Erie's Heroes' and—"

  "Aha, you admit you're still following that absurd hero angle."

  "Yes. I'm just not following you." It was a blatant lie, so she crossed her fingers behind her back to salve her conscience. "I'll admit you gave me the idea, but since you're not interested, I'm following other stories. Like I said, you've got an overinflated eee—Riley, watch out!" Paige cried even as she ducked.

  He had his back to the rink and didn't even see it coming. She ducked and pulled him down to safety with her. She heard the thwack of a hockey puck contacting with the back of a chair even as he was falling toward her. . .no, not just toward her—on her.

  His head knocked against hers and Paige found herself sandwiched between Riley and the floor. "Riley? Are you okay?"

  "Hey, I got the puck!" Zac cried.

  "And there's another fan with a lucky puck! Bring the puck to the Fan Assistance Center and claim your prize!" the voice on the loudspeaker announced.

  "Riley?" she asked.

  He moved slowly and sat upright.

  "Hey, cool, can I take the puck up?" Zac asked.

  Riley swayed back and forth as he got to his feet. "Sure. Go see what they give to spectators they maim."

  As soon as Zac was out of earshot, he said, "You are trying to kill me."

  "What?" Paige asked. He might have said, Thank you, Paige, for trying to save me, or, Thank you for cushioning my fall. She was definitely going to have a few bruises from having him land on her. Instead, he was blaming her for getting his fat head out of the way of a hockey puck? "This is my fault?"

  He gave a half nod, then winced, obviously thought better of it and settled for simply glaring at her as he said, "First that date. . .you almost did me in on three separate occasions that night. And then the heartburn, and the stroke—"

  "What stroke?"

  Riley didn't answer, but talked right over her question. "And now this. I'm sure it's a concussion. And actually if you count the concussion your cat gave me on our date, then this is the second concussion you're responsible for."

  "Maybe Cuddles was my fault. I should have controlled him. But if you think you're going to blame me for saving you from a hockey puck, well, I take offense."

  "If I hadn't been talking to you—"

  "Yelling at me," she corrected.

  "You're here, causing me grief again. You're a dangerous woman. Everyone says you're sweet, but you're not really. You're out to do me in."

  "Oh, I'd like to do you in, all right."

  "There you go again, saying those un-Pollyanna-ish things. Polly World isn't all it's cracked up to be, is it?"

  "Not when you're around. You can dim even the rosiest view of the world."

  "You know," he said, "everyone might think you're sweet, but I know the truth. You just pretend to be sweet. I, on the other hand, am honest about my non-sweetness. I want you to stay away from me."

  "Fine," Paige said as she climbed to her feet. "I'll stay away—as far away as I can. I might be a health hazard for you, but you're starting to affect my sunny disposition. Around you I feel. . .well, as sour-natured as you are."

  With tha
t, Paige grabbed her camera from Zac's vacant seat and walked, head held high, up the stairs, out of the civic center and out of Riley Calhoon's life.

  RILEY HAD DROPPED OFF a very excited Zac after the hockey game. It turned out that the team gave away autographed hockey sticks to their maimed spectators. The boy was bubbling over winning one, and about being on the news. Riley wasn't sure how his mother was ever going to settle Zac down for the night.

  But Zac wasn't his worry. Actually, now that he'd gotten rid of Paige, he had no worries at all. And he was thrilled at the thought.

  Totally thrilled.

  Yet, there was some other feeling there when he thought about not seeing Paige anymore. Something other than being thrilled. Something. . .

  No. Thrilled. That was all he was feeling.

  He rubbed his head and flicked on the television, using the remote to mindlessly scan through the channels as he thought about Paige.

  Riley was glad to have seen the last of her.

  Even as he had the thought, he saw her face on the screen. Of course, he didn't mean to end up on WMAC just in time for the late-night news. It was a total accident.

  It was an accident that had happened over and over again the past six months.

  He knew the station tended to run her spots on all three newscasts unless they were bumped by some big late-breaking news.

  "This is Paige Montgomery, and I'm here with Adam Bartlett. Adam, why don't you tell me what happened."

  The boy launched into a story about saving a dog that couldn't swim, from the small pond near his farm.

  "I think Hercules here was lucky to have a hero like Adam Bartlett around. Life is full of heroes. Sometimes they do big things that everyone notices, and sometimes, like Adam, they perform a small heroic gesture that should be noticed. This is Paige Montgomery with WMAC, Where Nice News Matters, and 'Erie's Heroes' get the notice they deserve."

  Okay, maybe Paige was better than he thought, Riley mused. She'd taken his talk of a lawsuit to heart and hadn't used his name. Hadn't even mentioned the cab. Though she'd given him another little jab on the air, clearly hoping to make him as miserable as she must feel about not getting her interview. Well, she deserved to be miserable about not interviewing him. It was only fair. She'd made his life miserable all week.